The prompt for Writer's Island this week is "Haunted", just in time for Halloween. My entry is not so much Halloween themed, still, here it is:
Faded Memory
No longer able to recall
Your face
without some effort
your smile
without some struggle
your voice
without some thought
It takes focus now
To see
That twinkle
In your eyes
that mischief
in your grin
that vigor
in your stance
I must stop and concentrate
To recollect
The way you’d hold
My hand
The way you’d say
My name
They way you’d kiss
My lips
But somewhere in the recesses
of my mind
the power of your love remains
It haunts me
At the most inopportune of moments
Copyright 2007 - Karina
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Writer's Island #7 - The stranger
This week's "Writer's Island" prompt is "The Stranger". I realize some of you may be wondering whatever happened to my continuation of the story I started a few weeks ago, but for some reason that's been put on hold. Don't ask me, ask my muse...
In the meantime, here's my contribution for today's prompt. I'm not entirely sure I'm done with this one yet, there might still be some tweaks to it, it doesn't feel quite finished...Constructive criticism appreciated.
Rock Star
I stare mesmerized
Hypnotized
By his voice, his lips, his eyes
His confident swagger
His presence on stage
In his element
He commands attention
And I can’t take my eyes off him
Falling in love from afar
With a rock star
A stranger behind a guitar
His knowing smile
His furtive grin
Confident in his power
He knows he has the crowd
And I can’t look away from him
I can’t lie
So familiar am I
With everything about this guy
His middle name I know
His birth date I’ve memorized
From a stranger to a lover
He’s transformed himself
And I have never even met him
Copyright 2007 - Karina
Be sure to visit Writer's Island for other participants!
In the meantime, here's my contribution for today's prompt. I'm not entirely sure I'm done with this one yet, there might still be some tweaks to it, it doesn't feel quite finished...Constructive criticism appreciated.
Rock Star
I stare mesmerized
Hypnotized
By his voice, his lips, his eyes
His confident swagger
His presence on stage
In his element
He commands attention
And I can’t take my eyes off him
Falling in love from afar
With a rock star
A stranger behind a guitar
His knowing smile
His furtive grin
Confident in his power
He knows he has the crowd
And I can’t look away from him
I can’t lie
So familiar am I
With everything about this guy
His middle name I know
His birth date I’ve memorized
From a stranger to a lover
He’s transformed himself
And I have never even met him
Copyright 2007 - Karina
Be sure to visit Writer's Island for other participants!
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Writer's Island #6 - Message in a Bottle
The prompt for this week's Writers Island is as follows: You have each found a “Message In A Bottle”. Please share with the rest of us what mystery was revealed to you, or what urgent dispatch, or deep secret you discovered, or what solemn ‘last words’ you may have read — and tell us what you did after reading this communication from a time past.
I wasn't really sure where to go with this, and I'm still in the experimenting stages with Haiku, so I figured I'd use this prompt for a bit more practice in that genre:
Washing up on shore
something sparkly and round
what could this thing be
slowly I walk up
pick it up and examine
nothing here to see
Just an old bottle
a discarded artifact
but wait what is this
Look inside and find
Old rolled up parchment paper
Holding secret words
Anxiously I read
"If you are reading this note
Then I have yet hope"
"Send help quickly please
I am alone and adrift
I want to go home"
Looking around me
Not quite sure what to do next
I write a response
"No help to be found
I too am alone out here
Missing home as well"
Alas, we wait...
Copyright 2007 - Karina
See other Writer's Island enries here.
I wasn't really sure where to go with this, and I'm still in the experimenting stages with Haiku, so I figured I'd use this prompt for a bit more practice in that genre:
Washing up on shore
something sparkly and round
what could this thing be
slowly I walk up
pick it up and examine
nothing here to see
Just an old bottle
a discarded artifact
but wait what is this
Look inside and find
Old rolled up parchment paper
Holding secret words
Anxiously I read
"If you are reading this note
Then I have yet hope"
"Send help quickly please
I am alone and adrift
I want to go home"
Looking around me
Not quite sure what to do next
I write a response
"No help to be found
I too am alone out here
Missing home as well"
Alas, we wait...
Copyright 2007 - Karina
See other Writer's Island enries here.
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
Writer's Island #5 - Renewal
Welcome Islanders! Today's prompt finally directed me as to which path my story should take. There are still many questions to be answered, and it's quite possible that this tale is taking on a life of it's own, as the best stories seem to do. I'm happily jumping aboard and allowing myself to go along for the ride. I hope you'll join me.
For the following to make sense, you may want to read parts 1 and 2 first.
"My Name is"
"The Key"
Done? And now...Renewal:
“Click”.
Hearing that sound always made me smile. It was still amazing to me how something as simple as turning a key in a lock could open up a whole new world. Of course it wasn’t quite that simple, it wasn’t just any key, and it most certainly wasn’t just any lock, any door. I pushed open the door and stepped into a hallway much too long to be contained within the space of a closet in the backroom of a bookstore. I grabbed and switched on the flashlight resting on a shelf by the door, and closed the door behind me, locking it with the key.
“Click”.
Suddenly, the sounds of the city were extinguished, and I was left with a silence so profound, it took my breath away for a second. It was always like this, the moment of re-entry always left me a bit awestruck, feeling heavier instantly, my shoulders tensed, my mind a bit numb. Regaining my composure, I started down the hallway. As I walked, the path widened, the walls opened up, and within moments, the light from the windows and the fluorescent bulbs ahead erased the need for the flashlight. I shut it off, and placed it on a table. Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the well lit conference room.
“Ah, there she is, you’re a bit late today” Alfonse said getting up to greet me.
“I’m sorry, I got caught up” I smiled to myself, thinking of my breakfast encounter.
“No worries, no worries,” Alfonse said smiling and taking my hand and leading me to the big conference table in the middle of the room “we were just getting settled.”
As I approached the table, everyone stood “Good Morning Madam President” echoed throughout the room.
“Good morning everyone, please be seated”. I said taking my own seat at the head of the table. From here, I had a perfect view out of the main window in the room; a view that looked out above the remains of a city once bustling with activity, but now mostly dormant. A cloud of grey mist hung over the skeletons of buildings once filled with the noise of office equipment, telephones ringing, and people exchanging their morning pleasantries. It was silent now, a ghost town, and signs of the mass desertion were still visible in things such as the abandoned cars in the middle of the streets, and the store fronts with their “OPEN” signs flapping in the wind.
THIS was my world. This was where I belonged. Not the sunny, cheerful coffee shop, or the dusty, antique bookstore full of character, but this, a conference room in a secured and air locked building, where I governed over a world so splintered and devoid of beauty that it hurt to look out the windows. Yet there was hope. We’d discovered the key, and long with the key, was the legend. If the legend was true, we could create a renewal of this world, and bring back its beauty and magic. So far, every prophecy had manifested itself; therefore we had to believe the legend of the key would as well.
And that is what I was doing on the other side of the door. Hoping to bridge a gap between the two worlds, in order to infuse color back into the land I loved so deeply. It wasn’t going to be easy, and the road to get even as far as we’d already gotten had been filled with obstacles and pitfalls. But we had located the door, passed through, established a connection, and I wasn’t giving up until I’d either succeeded or taken my last breath. And even then, I had them, my council, my advisors, my soldiers. They would never stop.
I looked around the table at their expectant faces. All waiting for me to deliver some good news, tell them anything that would give them enough hope to keep fighting another day. And today, for the first time in weeks, I had a glimmer of that hope to hand out.
“Well,” I said sitting back in my chair and smiling “It’s not much, but I’ve made contact”.
A collective sigh echoed throughout the room and Alfonse was the first to speak
“He spoke to you?”
“He did,” I smiled “and we have a breakfast date tomorrow morning”.
The smiles were grand, but cautious.
“And you really think he’s the one?” This time it was Percival who spoke.
“We’ve been over this” Alfonse said quickly “We can’t be sure, but he seems to be the best candidate so far”.
“And if it’s not him?” Margarita asked anxiously “We’re running out of time”
“We still have time Margarita” I said “If it isn’t him, we’ll keep searching”
“And if it is him?” Percival spoke again “Then what?”
“Then we wait…” Alfonse answered “We let the magic take its course, and we wait.”
Copyright 2007 - Karina
Please visit Writer's Island for other participants.
For the following to make sense, you may want to read parts 1 and 2 first.
"My Name is"
"The Key"
Done? And now...Renewal:
“Click”.
Hearing that sound always made me smile. It was still amazing to me how something as simple as turning a key in a lock could open up a whole new world. Of course it wasn’t quite that simple, it wasn’t just any key, and it most certainly wasn’t just any lock, any door. I pushed open the door and stepped into a hallway much too long to be contained within the space of a closet in the backroom of a bookstore. I grabbed and switched on the flashlight resting on a shelf by the door, and closed the door behind me, locking it with the key.
“Click”.
Suddenly, the sounds of the city were extinguished, and I was left with a silence so profound, it took my breath away for a second. It was always like this, the moment of re-entry always left me a bit awestruck, feeling heavier instantly, my shoulders tensed, my mind a bit numb. Regaining my composure, I started down the hallway. As I walked, the path widened, the walls opened up, and within moments, the light from the windows and the fluorescent bulbs ahead erased the need for the flashlight. I shut it off, and placed it on a table. Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the well lit conference room.
“Ah, there she is, you’re a bit late today” Alfonse said getting up to greet me.
“I’m sorry, I got caught up” I smiled to myself, thinking of my breakfast encounter.
“No worries, no worries,” Alfonse said smiling and taking my hand and leading me to the big conference table in the middle of the room “we were just getting settled.”
As I approached the table, everyone stood “Good Morning Madam President” echoed throughout the room.
“Good morning everyone, please be seated”. I said taking my own seat at the head of the table. From here, I had a perfect view out of the main window in the room; a view that looked out above the remains of a city once bustling with activity, but now mostly dormant. A cloud of grey mist hung over the skeletons of buildings once filled with the noise of office equipment, telephones ringing, and people exchanging their morning pleasantries. It was silent now, a ghost town, and signs of the mass desertion were still visible in things such as the abandoned cars in the middle of the streets, and the store fronts with their “OPEN” signs flapping in the wind.
THIS was my world. This was where I belonged. Not the sunny, cheerful coffee shop, or the dusty, antique bookstore full of character, but this, a conference room in a secured and air locked building, where I governed over a world so splintered and devoid of beauty that it hurt to look out the windows. Yet there was hope. We’d discovered the key, and long with the key, was the legend. If the legend was true, we could create a renewal of this world, and bring back its beauty and magic. So far, every prophecy had manifested itself; therefore we had to believe the legend of the key would as well.
And that is what I was doing on the other side of the door. Hoping to bridge a gap between the two worlds, in order to infuse color back into the land I loved so deeply. It wasn’t going to be easy, and the road to get even as far as we’d already gotten had been filled with obstacles and pitfalls. But we had located the door, passed through, established a connection, and I wasn’t giving up until I’d either succeeded or taken my last breath. And even then, I had them, my council, my advisors, my soldiers. They would never stop.
I looked around the table at their expectant faces. All waiting for me to deliver some good news, tell them anything that would give them enough hope to keep fighting another day. And today, for the first time in weeks, I had a glimmer of that hope to hand out.
“Well,” I said sitting back in my chair and smiling “It’s not much, but I’ve made contact”.
A collective sigh echoed throughout the room and Alfonse was the first to speak
“He spoke to you?”
“He did,” I smiled “and we have a breakfast date tomorrow morning”.
The smiles were grand, but cautious.
“And you really think he’s the one?” This time it was Percival who spoke.
“We’ve been over this” Alfonse said quickly “We can’t be sure, but he seems to be the best candidate so far”.
“And if it’s not him?” Margarita asked anxiously “We’re running out of time”
“We still have time Margarita” I said “If it isn’t him, we’ll keep searching”
“And if it is him?” Percival spoke again “Then what?”
“Then we wait…” Alfonse answered “We let the magic take its course, and we wait.”
Copyright 2007 - Karina
Please visit Writer's Island for other participants.
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
Writer's Island #4, The Journey
Welcome back fellow islanders. I must apologize if you came today hoping for the next installation of the story from last week. I have been sick this week and just didn't have the energy to delve into that story just yet. Instead of forcing something out that I would be unhappy with, I decided to take a break from it, and let this prompt lead me elsewhere.
As I was drifting off to sleep yesterday, in a Nyquil induced stupor, the following haikus began to form in my brain:
Life is a journey
Best taken with open eyes
So you don't miss it
The colors and sounds,
Aromas and textures too
All these surround you
Appreciate all
Live, love, and never regret
Take none for granted
And you will know then
That you have lived life as well
As you could have done
Okay, I know it's not great, but Haiku is a completely new form for me, so these are all just expirements in the format.
Check out other Islanders here.
As I was drifting off to sleep yesterday, in a Nyquil induced stupor, the following haikus began to form in my brain:
Life is a journey
Best taken with open eyes
So you don't miss it
The colors and sounds,
Aromas and textures too
All these surround you
Appreciate all
Live, love, and never regret
Take none for granted
And you will know then
That you have lived life as well
As you could have done
Okay, I know it's not great, but Haiku is a completely new form for me, so these are all just expirements in the format.
Check out other Islanders here.
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